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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856397">Adopted By Love Interest's Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium'>lesdemonium (winnerstick)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/winnerstick'>winnerstick</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Romtober 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, Family, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Meet the Family, Mutual Pining, Pining, Winter At Kaer Morhen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:21:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/winnerstick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier wasn't quite expecting to have such a warm welcome at his first visit to Kaer Morhen, but he certainly isn't complaining. Especially not when he accidentally overhears conversations he wasn't meant to hear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Romtober 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>795</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Adopted By Love Interest's Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> kiss and tell,” Jaskier insisted haughtily, though he winked at Eskel and Lambert as he did so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert snorted into his drink--something </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> stronger than Jaskier would find at any old tavern in the Continent. Jaskier had taken one sip, gagged, and made some crack about it curling his chesthair that had Eskel and Lambert howling as they offered him something more suitable. More suitable, apparently, meant probably the strongest wine Jaskier had ever taken. It was meant to be sipped, absolutely, but at least Jaskier could stomach this one. He had never considered himself to have a weak constitution, but Witchers just so loved proving him wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a lie and we all know it, bard,” Lambert accused, a finger pointed at Jaskier as he narrowed his eyes. Jaskier smiled pleasantly back. “If you had actually managed to kiss that princess, you would be bragging about it until your dying breath. I bet she rejected you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier feigned affront. “Rejected? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I’m offended you would even suggest such a thing. But I will forgive you, simply because you do not know of what you speak; you have not seen me in action.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now was Eskel’s turn to snort. “We haven’t seen you in action,” he repeated, an eyebrow raised pointedly and a teasing lilt to his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen him </span>
  <em>
    <span>in action</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Geralt?” Lambert asked, with all the faux innocence a shithead like him could muster. “Is it truly a sight to behold? Knicker dropping, would you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s face flushed and he resolutely did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn his attention toward Geralt, lest Geralt read a bit too much on his face. Geralt, however, didn’t seem to notice the teasing, which was less surprising and more disappointing than Jaskier would have thought. Instead, he hummed and tapped the table as if he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually considering his answer</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a sight, I’ll say that much,” he answered, ever the diplomat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inspirational, truly. I think your roles should be switched. Geralt should sing of Jaskier’s triumphs,” Eskel said, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier waved a hand. “Save us all that misfortune, Eskel. Geralt would have to say a nice thing or two about me on occasion. I don’t think his poor, delicate heart could take it.” Jaskier grinned at Geralt and nudged him with his shoulder, only to receive an eyeroll and a push back--Geralt likely thought it was just a nudge, but it sent Jaskier tumbling over on the long bench. “See? Brute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jaskier had first come to Kaer Morhen, he had expected a far cooler reception than the one he received. He had been traveling with Geralt for years, and though he knew Geralt was fond of Jaskier, in his own ways, Jaskier could never quite call him </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was a safe assumption that a winter in Kaer Morhen would be much the same, but from three new witchers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir did have a bit more of his progeny’s cool and collected demeanor, but he had clapped Jaskier on the back in a way Jaskier could almost call fatherly on </span>
  <em>
    <span>multiple</span>
  </em>
  <span> different occasions. When he had met Lambert and Eskel, Lambert had loudly started singing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Toss A Coin</span>
  </em>
  <span> at them and Eskel had pulled Jaskier in for the most thorough hug of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since that welcome reception, they had been outrageously chatty compared to their brother in arms, and nearly every night was spent talking well into the evening. Jaskier had no monster stories to regale them with, but the others did not make him feel as if he was the odd man out. Instead, they looked forward to his stories of skirt chasing and court drama just as much as he looked forward to their tales of heroics against monstrous monsters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monstrous monsters. Maybe he’d had a bit too much of the wine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems my meager human constitution pales in comparison to what your sturdier frames can put away. I fear I must retire before I say something to embarrass myself,” Jaskier said, pushing himself back from the table and standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the longest way to say ‘I’m pissed, gonna go sleep it off,’ I’ve ever heard,” Lambert snorted. “Do you ever say things straight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Geralt answered. “He once ranted through an entire meal, but the only thing he managed to say was that I was a troll.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you are, darling. And a miserable hag to boot.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “A true wordsmith such as I knows how to weave even the most simple of statements into works of art. Try not to miss me and my eloquence too much, and pray that you do not drink yourselves into an early grave. Is it still an early grave if you’re well over a hundred?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher’s laughed and bid him goodnight, and Jaskier made his way out of the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem with the witcher’s keep was that it was not the most intuitive place to navigate. Jaskier prided himself on his sense of direction, having been in many a castle before, and all castles started to look alike with their long, windy hallways and doors upon doors, many of which led to nowhere. The keep was much the same, and the combination of its inherent confusion, the darkness, and Jaskier’s slight inebriation had Jaskier lost. Quite quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him about ten minutes and four different doors he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> had contained stairs earlier that day to finally admit defeat and shuffle back to the dining hall. He didn’t mean to overhear, he really didn’t. Jaskier wasn’t even trying to be sneaky--why bother, when you’re in a keep full of men pumped with so many mutagens they could tell the color of a rabbit from the way it shuffled its feet? Only, apparently the ale had dampened their attention enough that Jaskier’s quiet steps had gone unheard, and he was able to approach the door to the dining hall without so much as a stutter in their conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“--like him, Geralt,” Eskel said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye. If you manage to fuck things up in the next year and don’t bring him back, I’m not sure if we can let you pass through the gate,” Lamber agreed, though his voice was unusually pleasant. Like he was teasing Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So glad to know my own brothers have turned on me so quickly,” Geralt scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’d probably let you in, but only because if your froze your balls off we’d be hearing about it for the next century or so. Seriously, though. He’s nice to have around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> have certainly been less moody this winter,” Eskel said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you were a right prick last year. And the year before that.” Lambert paused, as if he was considering something. “You have been a right prick this year, too, now that I think of it. Maybe the bard just distracts from your overall unpleasantness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a quick scuffle and a grunt from Lambert, followed by a long laugh from all of them, though Lambert’s took a moment to move from begrudging to warm. Sometimes, Jaskier wondered if they truly were brothers since infancy; they certainly acted like it. Though, he supposed experiences like they’d had bound people together far more securely than mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ask him, but there’s no guarantees. He makes his own decisions. Goes where he wants. I have no claim to him,” Geralt said, and Jaskier was sure he was not drunk enough to be imagining the sadness etched in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s bull--” Lambert started, only to be drowned out by Eskel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, are you kidding?” Eskel asked, incredulous. “That bard would go wherever you went, if only you’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even over a fucking cliff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously. He makes eyes at you so frequently, I don’t think he’s even aware he’s doing it at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert laughed, as if it was a joke, but Jaskier’s face grew hot with embarrassment. Ah. So they had noticed. Jaskier was half afraid they would, and now he had mounting concern over the fact that they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>telling Geralt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jaskier was quite certain this winter was about to get a hell of a lot longer, lonelier, and colder. Either Geralt would realize Jaskier’s affections were just as his brothers said and be disgusted, or he would just let them stay there, as if nothing had happened. Jaskier wasn’t sure which option was worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to bed,” Geralt said, his voice gruff, and Jaskier heard the scraping of his chair against the wood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier stumbled back a few steps, silently cursed himself, then tried to tiptoe away without attracting </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much </span>
  </em>
  <span>attention. This was not something he wanted to explain. Except, he still didn’t know how to get back to his own room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re smart, you’ll go to your </span>
  <em>
    <span>bard’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> bed!” Lambert called as the door opened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier scrambled behind a nearby door, trying to hide as quietly as he possibly could. It was a fool’s errand, he knew. After all, even drunk, Geralt would be able to notice him, surely. But he had gotten lucky once tonight when it was him against witchery senses; Jaskier could only hope he’d be lucky again. Otherwise he would have a fair bit of explaining to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt walked by the door, and Jaskier only narrowly avoiding expelling a breath of relief. Until he heard Geralt stop, then push the door closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time, you should make sure you close the door after you hide behind it,” Geralt said, a smile in his voice, then continued on his merry way, as if he hadn’t left Jaskier frozen to the spot in shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a long time for Jaskier to build up the courage to leave whatever room he had been hiding in. By the time he did so, Geralt was gone. Apparently, that was that. Apparently, Geralt was content to allow Jaskier to at least sort of live this down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this winter wouldn’t turn out to be horrible after all.</span>
</p>
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